Dear Sally
by skipmunks
Summary: Sarah Poe's 5th year at Hogwarts. Third Installment of my Indecent Gryffindor series. Laughs. Tears. Explosions. FredxOC Read and review!
1. Puking Pastilles

The stink of toilet was really starting to get to me. The sickeningly sweet smell of old urine and porcelain. I wonder how many bums...

My sides heaved and I retched into the toilet in Fred and George's flat above the shop for what seemed like the millionth time today.

I wiped my mouth daintily on a peice of toilet paper and leaned my forehead back against the rim of the bowl. It was cold against my sweaty forehead.

The Puking Pastilles definitely needed a stronger antidote.

Skiving Snackboxes we were calling them. Guaranteed to get you out of class. One side of the sweet makes you ill, and the other fixes you up the moment you are out of the classroom!

Ooh! Ahh!

Slight problems:

-Nosebleed Nougats bleed you dry in 3 minutes.

-A person knocked unconcious by a Fainting Fancy can't eat the antidote unless its fed to them by somebody else.

-The Puking Pastille antidote can't be kept down through the neverending retching.

I rolled my eyes at myself.

I flung a hand up to the sink and felt around for another antidote.

The small blue pill went down jerkily, but I pressed my hand over my mouth to prevent any projectiles.

"Good grief." I muttered, standing shakily, clutching the sink for support.

I looked in the slightly rusted mirror. And immediately regretted it.

My fringe was plastered to my forehead with sweat in an awkward angle.

My eyes were all puffy.

Dried sick ran all down my nightie.

I haven't looked THIS good since I babysat my werewolf teacher for a night two years ago.

I smiled in spite of myself.

I couldn't wait to go back to that crazy school.

I sighed and clicked off the bathroom light behind me as I shuffled back to the sagging sofa I had comandeered for the night.

For the first time in 7 hours, my stomach stopped churning.

I snuggled down into the ratty quilt contentedly.

In the next room, I heard the snort- like snoring of the two sleeping twins.

I dug my head into my pillow to drown it out, and there fell into a very breif sleep.

--

"Sally!" Fred's whisper echoed through the dark abyss.

I was vaguely aware of someone shaking my shoulder.

I felt like I had only slept for minutes.

"Urnghh!" I yanked my shoulder out of reach, and buried myself back in my pillow.

"Honestly..." he muttered, grabbing the end of the quilt.

With an unceremonious yank the nice warm covers were gone and my bare legs were freezing from exposure.

Wanker. Wanker. Wanker. Wanker.

I curled my knees to my chest protectively.

"Bloody hell!" I snapped.

In the darkness, I felt Fred sit down next to me.

"Sarah, I can't explain right now, but I have to leave."

My eyes popped open.

"Huh?"

"Mum just rang. George and I have to leave."

I sat up.

"Where?"

The dark shadow of his hand reached up and laced its fingers in my hair.

"I can't say. I wasn't even supposed to tell you we were leaving." He let out a quick chuckle, "But I didn't want to evoke your wrath by just leaving a note."

"Why?" My voice had a sight panic in it. Why was he being so calm?

He sighed.

"I'm sorry. Don't worry." He hugged me close.

I couldnt really hug back as I was still half asleep and had no idea what was going on.

"Floo over to Jill's in the morning." He whispered, kissing my cheek softly.

He stood.

I stared up at him, a million questions flying through my mind.

One found it's way to my mouth:

"When will I see you again?"

He shrugged his shoulders too casually to hide his anxiousness.

"School."

That one word shut down my heart like a popping balloon.

I groaned, and flung my head back into my pillow.

"Goodnight, Sally."

"Write to me."

"I'll try."

There was a loud crack, and suddenly I was alone.


	2. Summertime in Letters

Dear Sally,

Everyone's safe. George and I are causing mayhem. Mum's gonna do her nut if we apparate one more time. I can't answer any of your questions right now. You haven't missed anything.

love,

Fred

ps. Doxie Venom- potential?

Dear Sally,

Theres no point in asking my questions. I can't answer them. There's no point in getting angry. You can't yell at me. Extendable ears are very convenient, although a simple silencing charm makes them quite useless. (Thanks to mum for that one.)

love,

Fred

Dear Sally,

Two weeks till school! I haven't been this excited to go back since...Well, actually this is the first time. Ron made prefect. Mum's intolerable. Really wish I could blow something up. Soon, I can explain everything.

love,

Fred

ps. George says hello.


	3. Weatherby, Dolores and Blueberry Scones

A/N: hey readers!!! SO SORRY for the lack of writing. I just survived my first semester of college :) Now that Im all settled down, I promise to be more productive. As a reward for your patience, have a nice long chapter, eh! :)

I looked up at Jill.

She was perched in front of her mirror for probably the 28th time this morning.

She smoothed down a stray hair. Adjusted her glittering sapphire barrette. Smiled at her reflection to check her teeth.

And pushed a long, shiny layer of hair back over her shoulder to reveal the prefect badge she had been admiring the entire week.

"Don't worry. It's still there." I teased, rolling over on her bed so I was looking at her upside-down.

She sighed contentedly.

"I just love the way it peeks out like that." She caressed the top of the badge delicately.

I shuffled through the 3 letters I'd recieved from Fred over the summer. I had scoured them over and over. Looking between all the short and sloppy lines, trying to figure out what he was keeping from me so well. Jill had told me to give up weeks ago because Fred was much too dull to do something so crafty, but I still had come up with a million plausible theories to the Weasley's sudden disappearance.

"Ive got it!" I exclaimed, fanning the parchments before me like a royal flush. "The code! Fred mentions his mother in each one. That must mean Molly has taken them all captive. Gone mad. Maybe she has a dark sinister secret and now that she has revealed it to her flesh and blood they must be kept under lock and key. These letters are clearly cry for help! Why didn't I see it before?! Jillian?" I whipped my head in her direction.

She was still staring goofily at her reflection.

"Jillian! I KNOW you're not listening to me! Could you at least go hmmm?!"

"Are you even listening to yourself right now?"

I moodily flung the peices of parchment into my satchel.

She stood and picked up the handle to her trunk.

"Alright. Lets go." She demanded, as if I were the one who'd spent the last 20 minutes staring at myself. "The train leaves in 2 short hours. Prefects need to be early to patrol the train and tell first years where to go."

I rolled my eyes.

"I would but I'm paralyzed with not caring very much."

"DETENTION!" Jill barked, grabbing me savagely by the arm of my robes.

I looked at her, alarmed.

"Sorry. Just getting the hang of it, y' know?"

She cast one satisfied look back at the mirror before exiting her room to where her father awaited to chauffer us to King's Cross Station.

--------------

I was in that nice, fuzzy half- dream state that happens when u curl up in front of those roaring fires in the Gryffindor common room.

I hadn't eaten much at the feast.

The new DADA teacher had caused quite a distraction, be it from her WAY out of line interruption of the great Albus Dumbledore (If looks could kill- or we had mastered nonverbal spells- Dolores Umbridge would have been down as fast as Jill could glare.)

The first was the realization that she looked mildly like my great aunt Winifred. The squat physique. The broad smile. The taste in clothes which should be punishable by law. It was a rather pleasant connection, because Winifred was a very spirited old bat who would always send us fudge on Christmas and always called me Gabby. (For reasons unbeknownst to me.)

The second was how annoying that syrupy voice was going to get after awhile, and how funny it would sound describing horrific dark arts.

The third was a sudden hunger for a Hostess Snowball, brought about by the pink fluffiness of her hideous cardigan.

My stomach rumbled.

Suddenly, a package was dumped into my lap that startled me so much I jumped about 200 feet in the air.

"WHAT!?" I shrieked.

Upon looking up, I saw both Fred and George looking at me with wide eyed grins.

"Nice to see you, too!" one of them replied.

I sprung to my feet like a gymnast, allowing the package (which I came to discover later was nothing but a box of canary creams. Nothing says 'I love you' like being turned into a bird.) to fall to the ground.

"FREDRICK. WEATHERBY. WEASLEY." I began, intending to give him the BIGGEST piece of my mind he has ever had the desire to hear, "ARE YOU SERIOUS. YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE DROPPED OF THE FACE OF THE PLANET FOR THE PAST 3 MONTHS! YOU JUST PEACED ON OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE ANYWAYS?! MERLINS BEARD! YOURE SUCH A COMPLETE DORK HEAD!!!!" I took a deep breath in, and then added for good measure, "AND DONT GIVE ME THAT CRAP ABOUT YOUR OH SO HELPFUL LETTERS! YOU MIGHT AS WELL HAVE SENT UP SOME SMOKE SIGNALS IT WOULD HAVE **REALLY** BEEN JUST AS HELPFUL!"

There was a silence as they waited to make sure I was empty.

"Dork head?" Fred smirked, "Now that REALLY hurt my feelings."

George grinned eagerly, "Well, at least I'm not in trouble right?"

I merely glared at him.

He turned to Fred, "Weatherby? Where did that come from?"

I blushed. "I don't know your middle name. But I think the circumstances called for one so I just threw one in."

Fred gave me a hug, and grinned, "Idiot."

I sort of missed that kid.

________________

I stood outside the greenhouse the next day, waiting for Jillian. We had double Herbology with Ravenclaw. I was rather lost in thought, trying to think of a useable charm for the newest Weasley Wizard Wheeze- headless hats. They were for sure going to be the next craze in the halls of Hogwarts, if only we could figure out how to get the cloaking charm to vanish the head along with the hat.

I was pulled out of my reverie as some rather loud shouting echoed from the steps of the Great Hall.

"YOU HAVE THE EMOTIONAL MATURITY OF A BLUEBERRY SCONE!" Jill shouted over her shoulder at a rather sour looking Malfoy.

I braced myself for a rant as soon as she reached talking distance. I was mildly surprised when she merely grunted a "hi" and huffed into the greenhouse.

I took my seat beside her at our table.

Being typical Jill, she was brutally and rebelliously categorizing all of the pruning tools by shape and size.

"Your good mood is both obvious and contagious." I said sweetly, secretly excited at the prospect of Jill dumping Malfoy's greasy bum.

"We got in ONE teensy little argument about his hair and that little rat decided to **accidentally** tell Pince about those restricted books I borrowed."

"I believe you mean ferret, actually. That little ferret."

Jill didn't catch the joke. She suddenly had a few tears in her eyes.

"He has marred my unblemished record!!!!" She moaned, putting her head on the table miserably.

I felt bad. She IS my best friend after all.

"Don't be sad, Jillian. I'm sure Dumbledore will pull out a random excuse for you if you ask."

No response.

I looked around the table sneakily.

"....AND I got you a present."

Her ears pricked up as I placed a pretty nice sized rock next to her.

She looked at me quizzically.

"A rock. Fantastic. I can't wait to tell Dumbledore. I bet he doesn't have a rock this big."

I snorted.

"Don't be silly. Thats not just a rock. It's a rock that can be thrown at people." I shook my head at her lack of chaotic skills. Fred would have thrown that sucker before I could say "Oh no, not at Neville!"

Jill laughed, but pocketed the rock anyway, just in case.

"What are you working on anyways?"

I looked down at the piece of parchment I had been scribbling on. It was covered in exotic charms and doodles of hats.

"A new project. The Headless Hat. Ya know. Nothing big." I boasted.

Jill started laughing so hard I thought she really lost it.

"You can't be serious."

I hid the paper hastily.

Jill rolled her eyes. "First of all, what good is a headless hat anyways? And secondly, it' s impossible."

I groaned.

"Ya know what, Jillian? JUST because it's NEVER going to work doesn't mean you have to be so negative!"

She giggled and began thumbing to the page Sprout had instructed.

"True. Very true."


	4. Prefects and Fever Fudge

_O._

_W._

_L._

_S._

The letters wrote themselves on the blackboard in a sickeningly curvaceous font.

"Ordinary Wizarding Levels!" Squealed Prof. Umbridge delightedly, flicking her wand about like she was the tooth fairy or something.

I rolled my eyes.

O.W.L.S. The 4 most hated letters among the wizarding community.

I rolled my wand lazily across my desk.

I was hoping for some outstanding grades in this class. DADA was, after all, my best subject besides Potions. However the thought of actually studying something- like, with a book and everything- was really dreadful.

"You can put that away." The syrupy voice drizzled above my head.

I looked up at the professor, surprised.

There was no note on my desk. No candy. No explosive. No tomfoolery.

"You won't be needing your wand in this class." She clarified, still smiling sweetly.

My eyebrow flickered.

Was I being pranked?

"But, professor, " Hermione's voice rang out from somewhere across the classroom, "How are we to perform the spells without our wands?"

Pinky turned to Hermione, smile still frozen in place.

"The Ministry does not approve of underage wizards practicing spells that are dangerous and unnecessary. In this class, I will teach you all the information that you will need to pass you O.. Isn't that what school is for, after all?"

There was a breif silence as we all just sort of looked at her.

----------------------

"REDICULOUS!" Jillian shreiked, waving her arms animatedly.

The light from the fireplace in Dumbledore's office covered her face in demonic red tones. It was fitting to her mood.

"I have always known Cornelius Fudge was completely daft. I forgave the simple minded loon for flagrantly disregarding You Know Who's return. I ignored the outrageous slander he has been spewing left and right about Dumbledore. I even overlooked that heinous bowler hat!!!"

Jill wheeled around, completely mad.

"But INTERFERING AT HOGWARTS IS WHERE I DRAW THE LINE!" her arms flew out like a madwoman. "MY EDUCATION IS AT STAKE."

She strode over to Dumbledore's desk, pointing accusingly at the book Umbridge has assigned: _A Beginner's Guide to Defensive Magic._

_"_WHAT IS THIS _RUBBISH?!?!"_

I set down my parchment, now fully alarmed. I had never seen Jillian be so rude to a book before.

"You alright, mate? Sit down before you pop a vein."

Jill looked at me, still infuriated.

"JUST LOOK AT THIS!" she wailed, grabbing my parchment from me rather savagely.

"Oi! I was almost finished..." I grumbled.

She began waving the parchment in the air, her face turning red from more than just the fireplace.

"WHAT IS THIS? HOMEWORK? A TRAINED MONKEY COULD DO THIS!"

"Copy the assigned text _four times_..." I mimicked in a high pitched Umbridge-esque squeak, "For maximum retention."

And let me tell you, personally. Four times is an outrageous request. One time is pretty pointless. Twice is downright senile. 3 times could be considered wasting parchment, but four times was definitely borderline sadistic.

"And WHERE on earth is Dumbledore? He can't just stand idly by and watch his students waste away their brain matter."

She glanced down at her Albus-watch, impatiently.

"Traveling. Still. I don't understand. Is he traveling via pogo stick?"

I wiggled out of the squashy armchair that I had settled in.

These moments with Jill were getting more and more frequent seeing as how she and Malfoy were going through a rather rough patch and our O.W.L.s crept slowly upon us.

They made me quite uncomfortable.

"Don't worry. We will find a way around this." I consoled, stretching my arms high above my head. "Lucky for you, I am particularly good at breaking rules."

To my relief, she merely smirked.

"Thanks, Sarah."

I gathered up my satchel.

"What are friends for." I grinned, looking sneakily into my bag, wherein there lay a bag of Fever Fudge.

"Speaking of breaking rules and friendship and all..." I began nonchalantly as I could manage, "....testing products on First Years....Punishable by detention, I presume?"

Jill rolled her eyes and took a seat in Dumbledore's chair.

"Not if the prefect's don't see it."

I grinned.

-------------------------------------------

Fred collapsed moodily into an armchair, clearly miffed.

George sat down into the chair across from him, watching the fireplace as the sign up sheet for First Year guinea pigs burned into a curling pile of ash.

I closed the briefcase lid shut with a soft click.

The damn prefects.

The First Years we had recruited for testing our snackboxes were found offensive to that whiny prat Hermione Granger.

I didn't particularly understand why. It was completely voluntary, besides we were paying them.

She was clearly taking this prefect thing too seriously.

"I'll bet Granger was bluffing." I muttered, sitting on the arm of George's chair. "She wouldn't dare write your mum."

Fred let out a bitter "HA."

"Don't have so much faith in her." George mumbled, leaning his head on his fist, "She's wearing a badge now. Only prats become prefects."

I snickered.

"Well what now? Are we going to have to start testing them out ourselves again?" My stomach churned at the thought of choking down another puking pastille.

"I've always sort of liked that part anyways." said Fred optimistically.

He would.

"Well the only thing left is the Fever Fudge." I remarked, reaching over to take the sweets out of my satchel.

I held two out in the palm of my hand.

Fred got up and stretched a little, his arms high above his head. He was in desperate need of a new sweater, as it was so shrunken that it rode halfway up his chest.

"Well, what do you say, George?" He asked cheekily.

I like it when he is cheeky.

"She forgave the toilet seat thing." George reminisced.

After grinning a bit from his reverie, he reached over and grabbed one of the pieces of fudge, downing it as if he was on a crazy game show.

Fred and I chuckled a little, before he helped himself to the remaining sweet.

He extended his hand and pulled me up off the chair.

"Danger is my middle name." He growled, popping the fudge in his mouth in the same manner as his brother.

He smirked and threw his arm lazily over my shoulders like some cool kid.

He paused for a moment, a grin flashing across his freckled mug.

"Well, actually my middle name is Weatherby, but only since yesterday."

-----------------


	5. The High Inquisitor Strikes Again

High Inquisitor.

When I first saw the plaque up there on the wall, I thought for sure it was just a joke.

But even Fred and George weren't this messed up.

They probably didn't even know what a High Inquisitor was, anyway.

I didn't- I had to ask Jill.

Anyways, it _wasn't_ a joke.

I figured it out the day she sat in our Potions class.

I walked into the dungeons early, as usual.

I really loved this class. I loved the moldy, damp smell of the dungeons. I loved seeing all the weird things floating around in jars. I loved the way Snape's droning voice made everyone groan.

It's _fantastic_!!

My mood could not have been better.

I flung open the doors with a flourish. (On the contrary, the doors are very heavy, and it wasn't so much a flourish as a struggle.)

"Good Morning, Snape!" I trilled.

He hates it when I trill.

"Poe." he acknowledged darkly from his desk.

I sauntered over to my desk- you know the one I'm talking about. Front and center, choicest seat in the house, merely centimeters away from Snape-

_"Hem-hem."_

I froze with my book clutched in one hand.

Hem hem?

What kind of noise is that for a dungeon??!

I turned around slowly.

There she was.

A speck of pink against the lovely greenish slime I called home.

"Professor Umbridge?"

What? What? What???!??

She smiled in a manner almost menacing, and then turned back to her clipboard.

I looked over at Snape, alarmed.

He merely glared back, eyes glinting, and droned: "Take your seat, Poe."

What fuckery was this?!

I sat down quite hard, quickly hiding the detailed drawing of Snape riding a unicorn that I had intended on delivering after class.

"Hem-hem." Umbridge squeaked from the corner, holding her quill poised above her clipboard as if she was someone of importance, "Miss Poe, how would you rate Professor Snape's effectiveness as a professor here at Hogwarts?"

I turned slowly to look at her.

I could feel my blood boiling in the pit of my stomach.

It is NEVER okay for someone to interrupt my Snapey time. **Ever.**

But to question his abilities in my presence??!

TO MY FACE?

I looked at her dead in the eyes.

"Impressive." I spat.

She merely smiled again and checked something off on her parchment.

"And Professor Snape," She began, turning her fat little body to face his desk, "Do you find that many students attend your class 15 minutes early, or only a few?"

There was a superiority in her voice that was REALLY irking me.

What was she getting at anyways?

Snape stirred the substance in his cauldron slowly and deliberately, causing an awkward silence.

"Only a few." He said slowly, annunciating every word.

There was a scratching as she checked something off on the clipboard again.

"Would you say that it is because you are unapproachable as a professor?"

There was a loud clang as I dropped my cauldron onto my desk.

Umbridge shot me a look of contempt for producing such an ugly noise in her presence.

I didn't even look up.

How dare she?

Sure, Snape was not the most popular guy around. I mean look at him, he is greasy and pale. Of course he is unapproachable! He is the potions teacher! He lurks in the dungeon all day! Does it make him a bad guy? Does it make him beneath this squat pink toad?

"No." was all that Snape replied.

Umbridge then got up and began strolling around the dungeon as more students came filing in, clicking her tongue every now and again as she stumbled upon an ugly fungus or festering ingredient.

I looked over at Snape.

He was flicking his wand violently at the blackboard, which was sloppily writing down the instructions for today's potion.

In the back of the room, Umbridge began asking more undermining questions to my classmates.

However, I didn't hear.

I was scouring the index of my textbook for a potion that might violently strike the High Inquisitor down dead, vomiting and crapping at the same time.

---------------------------

Ickle Ronniekins was the new Gryffindor Keeper.

The twins and I were beside ourselves.

I zoomed around the field, feeling the wind blow into my eyes and up my sleeves.

Ron looked ill, bobbing around the goal posts like an old elevator.

Poor wanker.

This was just practice. He would probably faint when it came down to game time.

I hurled the quaffle at him as hard as I could.

It bounced off his head and into the hoop.

I let out a savage whoop and did a victory lap around the goal posts, fists in the air.

George rocketed past me in hysterics.

I loved quidditch practice.

However, our beloved High Inquisitor Umbridge had caught wind of some secret Defense Organization, and made it required for all activities to be approved by her before they convened.

Therefore, this was the only practice we had before the big game against Slytherin.

We had to make it count.

Fred zoomed in front of me so unexpectedly that I nearly fell off my broom.

With a loud crack, he sent a bludger that would have been sailing towards my face clear across the field.

"Thanks, Fred!" I breathed.

That was too close for comfort.

He turned gingerly, so as not to disturb the nasty boils that had popped up as a result of the Fever Fudge.

"Anytime. I'm sort of fond of your face." he grinned, before soaring off again.

Angelina was heading towards Ronniekins at breakneck speed, weilding the quaffle high over her head.

"C'mon, Ron you've got this!" I shouted from somewhere behind Katie Bell.

She darted to his left- his weaker side, if there was one- and took the shot.

Perhaps God was feeling particularly merciful.

Perhaps the wind was in our favor.

Or perhaps Weasley just got lucky, but he saved it.

The entire team roared in approval, rushing forward to give him a clap on the shoulder.

As long as Katie, Angelina and I could keep the quaffle away from our end, we may just have a chance.

------------

Everything was dark.

I realized it was because my eyes were closed.

I opened them slowly.

The sunlight reflecting off the white walls was blinding.

Confusion ensued.

I was in a bed.

Yet I had no idea how I got there.

I looked at the clock.

4:05 p.m.

I sat up rather quickly. Immediately I began to feel faint, and a headache throbbed through my head.

Then it dawned on me.

I was in the hospital wing.

BUGGER. BUGGER. BUGGER.

What about the game?

I put a hand to my head. There was a tender lump on my forehead about the size of a golfball.

Wonderful.

I flung my feet over the edge of the bed.

I was in my quidditch robes.

I didn't much like where this was going.

"You're awake." Jill stated, rather than greeted.

Her voice startled me. She had been sitting as still as a statue beside my bed, a heavy book in her lap.

"What happened?" I asked, shutting my eyes. Part of me really didn't want to know.

"Gregory Goyle hurled his beater club at your head 10 minutes into the first half." She stated matter of factly, "...Good aim, too."

I groaned.

I hopped off the bed, and immediately regretted it as suddenly my right ankle felt as though it had broken in half.

I winced, and sat back down on the bed.

"You then blacked out and fell 2 stories. I wouldn't put any weight on your ankle if I were you."

I fell back into the bed with a whimper.

Jill heaved the book onto the floor.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Gryffindor did win."

I grinned.

"Where's Fred and George?"

Jill sighed and suddenly became very interested in her prefect badge.

"...Detention." she said meekly.

I groaned.

I hate it when they get detention without me.

"What for?"

Jill stuck her nose in the air.

"Brutally attacking Draco after the game. Completely barbaric. Mostly George- I believe Fred was restrained." she spat, with a look of utter distaste.

A pang of annoyance rang through me.

Detention? Fisticuffs? I miss out on everything. Unicorn turds.

"Well I hope they are through by saturday. Angelina will do her nut if they miss practice."

Jill bit her lip, nervously and picked up her book.

"What?" I asked, tilting my head towards her on the bed.

She brought the book very close to her face. I couldn't decide whether it was to muffle her words or block out my reaction.

"They got kicked off the Quidditch team."

I sat straight up, ignoring the pleas from my aching head.

"_WHAT_?! IS McGonnagal off her rocker? It was a fistfight not a duel!"

I crossed my arms across my chest like a toddler who doesn't get their own way.

"About that....The Ministry just passed a new decree. _Umbridge_ gives the punishments now."

Something cold hit me in the pit of my stomach.

I was suddenly beginning to realize that the Umbridge problem was just beginning.


	6. Pink Things and Flowers

The days passed miserably at Hogwarts after that.

Every day, Umbridge seemed to post another insane rule or decree that made my life a living hell.

She appointed little henchmen ('_bum-kissers_' George called them,) to skulk about and nab anyone breaking the rules.

Malfoy was a bum- kisser.

Therefore, I was in detention quite a lot lately.

I shuffled into the common room grumpily.

It was nearly midnight, and I had just finished filing- alphabetically - all of Filch's records.

Half way through the process of course, Professor Umbridge had waltzed in and decided Filch's current files were too old and dirty, and had to be rewritten. On pink, perfumed parchment. In shimmering ink.

Fred was waiting on one of the squashy old sofas, dozing awkwardly with his head back and his mouth wide open.

It was a sweet gesture, waiting up for me like that.

However, I was in quite a disasterous mood, and oblivious to his intentions.

I threw my robes- which had shimmering stains on the sleeves and reeked of potpourri- into an empty armchair, before sitting down beside Fred very sharply.

He awoke with a snort.

I ignored him.

I was very overtired.

The warmth of the fire seemed to burn my sleepy eyes, and I put my face into my hands.

However, the scent of the rediculous parchment was all over my fingers, and the smell invaded my senses in a most inappropriate way.

"Rough time tonight?" Fred chuckled, putting an arm heavily over my shoulder.

I shrugged it off.

"I actually spent my evening in Filch's lovely and welcoming office, alphabetizing his files." I spat, "I've seen your stupid name so many times in the past 5 hours I want to vomit."

Like I said. I was cranky. Very, very cranky.

Fred chuckled a very false laugh that sounded very foreign and forced.

"It really could have been worse." he reasoned, attempting to brush away a strand of my ashy hair.

I swatted his hand away, annoyed.

"Oh most definitely. Umbridge. Malfoy. Detention. Mix in a little kidney stone and it's my best day ever!" I shot him a sarcastic look of glee.

He turned his attention to the fireplace, a bit crestfallen.

I should have shut up right then. But we all know I didn't.

"OH. And would you like to know WHY I got a detention today?"

He turned his speckled mug at me and grinned.

"Hmmm, so many options....." he pretended to think.

I rolled my eyes.

"Because I was _loitering_."

I crossed my arms in front of me.

"I was loitering beside the statue of the one eyed witch. Waiting patiently for you and George to meet me after attending another one of those stupid meetings. Silly old bint now thinks I'M in that Harry Potter club."

Fred winced.

"Oy, I'm really sorry." Fred muttered, staring at the thinning carpet and scratching his ear absentmindedly, "It ran late, you know? We're trying to learn patronuses."

I snorted.

"Listen, I know you're not too fond of Harry but can't you cut him a break? He's doing us a favor." Fred snapped.

I turned to him, sharply.

"How am I NOT cutting him a break? I just took another detention for you all. When have I interfered with this club, EVER?"

There was a silence.

Unfortunately, I continued:

"I've never stopped you from doing anything stupid before. Why start now?"

I know. Classy, huh? Like watching a trainwreck...

Fred rolled his eyes and stood up.

"That's great. I appreciate it. You don't tell anyone that I'm in Dumbledore's Army, and I won't tell anyone that you turned into a blast- ended bint."

Finally, I shut up.

For some reason- probably because I was so tired- I felt my nose begin to run and my chin quiver.

I let out a short, frustrated sigh, and drew my knees up to my face, tightly...

And I began to sob like a little baby.

For a moment, there was no sound other than the crackling fire and the slurping noise my tears made, muffled by my knees.

I felt the cushion sink slightly as Fred sat back down.

I didn't look up.

I was too stubborn and embarassed to explain myself.

Thankfully, I didn't have to. I felt his arms come around me, gently.

See, this is the coolest thing about Fred.

He has been my friend for 5 years. He has only been_ in_ love with me for 2 of them. But he has loved me as a friend through them all. He loves the part of me that giggles when I hear a loud noise and the part of me that yells when I am cranky. He likes the Sally who spits chewing gum off Gryffindor Tower, and the Sally who looks forward to Potions class. All of it, all of me. He always had, and he probably always will.

I straightened out my knees, and threw my arms around his neck like a little girl.

He simply hushed me with a quiet hiss, and leaned us back into the cushions.

I felt his shirt get all damp in sticky beneath my cheek, my nose had slimed it's way across it like a slug.

"_Hrmm Srrgy." _I mumbled thickly into his chest.

"S' alright." he muttered sleepily, running his fingers lazily up my arm, "That old bat's got us all goin' mad..."

I took a deep breath, completely drained from the effort of crying.

Fred smirked and kissed my forehead gently.

There was a pause as he made a sniffing noise.

"You smell like...Pink things. And flowers."

He chuckled.

I groaned.

-----------------------

"Fred!"

The words sounded hazy and far away.

"Fred, wake up!"

Beneath my cheek, I felt Fred's stir and his chest grumble.

"Bugger.." he mumbled sleepily.

I pulled my gluey eyelids apart.

I was still perched on Fred, my arm flung lazily over his chest like a cat.

It was still dark in the common room, and the fire had burned low.

It was then I became aware that Professor McGonnagal was standing over us.

"Frederick!" she spoke again, patting his shoulder hastily.

I sat up rather quickly, rubbing my eyes.

I could feel the fabric of Fred's shirt imprinted on my cheek.

Fred propped himself up on his shoulder.

"Blimey, professor we were only sleepin'..." he snapped crankily.

McGonnagal let out a whimper.

"Fred, your father has been in an accident. Go and pack your things and wake your brother."

Fred was suddenly alert.

"Is he alright?!" he asked.

There was a silence from McGonnagal as she walked over to the stairwell to the girl's dormitories.

"We do not know yet." she said, before slipping up them quietly.

Fred immediately stood, and sprinted up the stairs to his dorm. I followed, feeling quite shocked.

Mr. Weasley?

He was the kindest, most gentle man I had ever met in my life.

I loved my father, of course, but being a muggle made it hard sometimes to relate. Don't get me wrong, he tried. Being an aerospace engineer, he was very keen on how my broom seemed to work. However Mr. Weasley has always been the wizarding father I never had.

Arthur taught me how to Floo. He bandaged my hand after an unfortunate de- gnoming fiasco.

I felt sick to my stomach imagining someone hurting him.

With a pang of sorrow, I recalled the summer before last when I had visited the Burrow. Arthur had come in while we were eating lunch, with a fussing black mess yowling in his arms. He plopped the cat into my lap, asking if I'd like to keep it.

"Found him in the orchard." Arthur beamed, ruffling the cat's scraggly- looking head. "He'll probably attempt to eat Pigwidgeon if he stays with us. Besides, I think he likes you."

A tear slithered over the rim of my eye.

Poor Mr. Weasley.

A few moments later, Fred and George came back down the stairs, nervously shoving stray articles of clothing into their satchels.

Fred turned to me, nodding gravely.

I nodded back to him.

"Tell your dad I say hullo..." I whimpered, my lip quivering again.

Fred put his thumb up under my lip, cradling my chin for a moment.

"We will."

And with that, both of their bobbing little heads disappeared out the portrait hole.

-------------------


	7. The Sad Chapter

Christmas wasn't quite as jolly without the Weasley's kicking around.

I set off a few fireworks on Christmas day, but it just wasn't the same.

Mr. Weasley survived the attack, thank goodness, and they did enjoy spending the holiday with him.

So, ya know, THAT turned out okay.

Back at Hogwarts, Jill and I rung in the New Year with butterbeer and christmas biscuits my mum had mailed, braiding eachothers hair and taking quizzes out of TeenWitch magazine.

The Snapester didn't much fancy the box of canary creams I left him as a christmas present. He must've been a very flustered bird, as I found stray feathers in weird places for weeks after that.

"Father Christmas can be a complete wanker, can't he?" I had said.

"....indeed." he had drawled in return.

Snapey's namesake- Severus the cat- enjoyed the holidays quite well. He slept. He ate. He killed things. The usual things that entertain odd cats.

The entire holiday had been so rejuvenating that when school came back around, the events that greeted me were so terrible it seemed almost comical.

...almost.

----------------------------------------

There are a few moments in my life that I will never, ever forget:

The sight of Professor Lupin in his birthday suit.

That time that Snape laughed.

My first home-made explosive.

The look on George's face when we blew up the toilet.

THIS was going to be one of those moments...

It was the moment Jillian Thimbleword found out Dumbledore got sacked.

It had all started at breakfast.

The rumors were spreading like wildfire.

She didn't believe them, of course.

Every whisper, every hiss made Jill's eyes dart madly in the direction of the disturbance.

Her fingers curled over her fork protectively, itching to give everyone a detention.

"Albus Dumbledore would NOT be scared away by the likes of that pink monstrosity." Jill quipped, nervously spreading jam on her toast.

But I could tell she was nervous.

She kept glancing down at her watch, making sure the minute hand was not anywhere around MORTAL PERIL.

Her ears would prick up at the slightest sound, like Severus when he is on the hunt.

She was also clearing her throat an awful lot.

After staring at the toast for 13 minutes, she snapped.

"This is REDICULOUS." she hissed, slamming the knife down on the table as if it had offended her.

And with that, she was off.

I scrambled to my feet, but she was already into the corridor.

I had to jog over a crowd of Hufflepuffs in order to keep up with her.

"Oi! Wait up!" I huffed, jogging along beside her.

She wasn't listening.

She was muttering things and wiping her palms on the front of her robes.

Without slowing, she veered around the corner and slammed directly into a Slytherin first year.

"Excuse me!" the victim squeaked.

"DETENTION." She barked over her shoulder, continuing down the hallway at top speed.

I shot an apologetic look to the first year as I followed, mouthing "_She doesn't mean it."_

I am not going to lie to you.

4 flights of stairs jogging is not my cup of tea.

I finally caught up to Jill, who was standing directly in front of Dumbledore's office statue.

I don't believe she had said anything yet, but she had her eyes closed and her lips were moving.

I slumped against the wall heavily, quite winded from our little work out.

Call me crazy, but I think she was praying.

Finally, Jillian looked at the statue of the raven straight in the eye and said evenly (without a trace of being out of breath): "Sherbert Lemon."

I paused.

She paused.

For a moment, the whole school seemed to get very quiet.

The statue seemed to stare back at her.

To be frank, it was kind of creepy.

The seconds ticked by.

I was nervous. It was like being in the presence of a bomb.

Jill cleared her throat.

"Sherbert. Lemon."

She annunciated every syllable slowly and crisply.

My heart palpitated.

This was not looking good.

Jill was beginning to look very pale.

"S-sugar quill." she ventured, her voice wavering slightly.

Her eyes were so big they seemed to fill up her whole face, like big, sad pools of blue.

"Gobstoppers." She uttered, almost a whisper.

Her lower lip began to tremble.

"....Licorice."

Her voice was inaudible.

Jill looked down quickly, blinking the tears away and letting her satchel drop to her feet.

I took a few steps closer.

I wasn't quite sure if she wanted space or if she wanted to have a good cry.

There's really no telling with Jill, she is very peculiar.

"Jill?" I asked gently, "Are you going to be alright?"

Her hands, which had been lying limply at her sides, suddenly balled into little fists.

Slowly, she turned her head towards me, looking at me with wet, angry eyes.

"I hate her." she groweled, teeth clenched as tight as her fists.

I stepped back a bit, startled.

I had never heard her voice sound so ugly.

"I HATE HER!" she yelled, kicking her satchel into the statue as hard as she could.

There must've been an ink bottle in there somewhere, because the satchel was soon sitting in a pool black as blood.

She turned, leaving it there, and began walking slowly back down the stairs.

---------------------------------------------

Jill never joined Dumbledore's Army.

They were fighting for Harry Potter.

Jill was fighting for _Dumbledore._

Her army had no name.

Her army had no roster.

Her army did not have a magical room filled with helpful tools and inspiring banter from the Boy Who Lived.

She was an army of one, and she fought dirty.

Don't get me wrong, she was not on her own, and she certainly had help.

(Mostly from me. I am the best friend and all.)

But for Jill, this was personal.

She turned into a person I had never seen before.

I had always known Jill was clever. Everyone knew it. However, few realize what a dangerous weapon cleverness can be in the hands of a student scorned.

Detentions began getting doled out only to bum kissers and their friends.

Bad things began to happen to student's DADA books.

And of course, there was the daily challenge of cracking the new password to Dumbledore's office.

Jill was becoming somewhat of a menace.

I never thought I could be so proud!!

However, no matter how we plotted our meager revenge, Hogwarts under the new headmaster proved to be unbearable.

------------------------

I knew this day had to come eventually.

I didn't think it was going to make me so sad.

I sat on the sink of the boys lavatory on the 3rd floor, my sneakered feet dangling lazily over the edge of the cold porcelain.

A few feet away, Fred and George were carefully tweaking with a little black box labeled _: Portable Swamp, brought to you exclusively by the Weasley Wizard Wheezes._

They were gonna do it, today.

They were going to leave.

"Bugger!" George swore, shaking some slime off of his hand that seemed to have leaked out of the box.

I smirked at him, while inside my heart broke into a few more sharp pieces.

They were going to move into the joke shop.

It was finally ready.

They had been talking about leaving for a long, long time. Ever since Dumbledore left, really.

I was more than excited. Frantic, ecstatic, amazed!

Really.... I was.

I was glad they were going, they needed to be free.

Hogwarts was becoming too short of a leash lately, and they were finally going to leave it all behind.

The sad part was, they were leaving me behind too.

The triumvirate of trouble. The musketeers of mayhem. The only 3 Gryffindors who did not embody what the Sorting Hat sang about; we were too indecent. Too odd. Too much of a handful.

The three of us.

And now they were leaving, and I instinctively wanted to follow.

"Almost got it..." Fred muttered, tapping his wand lightly over the lock on the box, sending a few golden sparks sputtering out over the floor.

I watched them from my porcelain perch, a little angry and a little sad and a little excited all at once.

Fred was never the most handsome kid in the school.

He was never all too clever- at least when it came to books and such- and even though he means well he could be the biggest jerk in England.

But I am out of my mind in love with him.

Down to the last freckle.

We weren't the type of couple to go on dates and hold hands.

We spent more time with George than we did alone.

Romance to the two of us was just something to make fun of and tease people about.

But in all my life, I had never loved anyone else.

It's not like me to get all sappy.

I've never gotten choked up about this stuff before.

But I was like a firecracker, and Fred was like a fuse, and without him all my sparkle and life would never get to come out.

And despite all of this, is it strange that I thought I would miss George the most?

George who is not afraid to pull my hair and kick my shins.

The one who sat with me in the snow for hours, letting me mope about his brother.

The one who spun me around at the Yule Ball, laughing when we bumped into people and ignoring it when i stood on his feet.

He's not like a big brother.

He's not like a friend.

I don't really know what to call him actually, other than a George.

And everyone needs a George.

"I think that'll do it..." said George, grinning and wiping his hands off on his pants.

Fred laughed and set it down on one of the sinks beside me.

"Smells, doesn't it?" he grinned, "Bet it'll take Umbridge the rest of the semester to get it all cleaned up."

I smiled back.

"Here's hoping!"

George chuckled evilly.

"Lets go set it up, then, eh?"

I nodded, looking down at the sad, cold tiles of the floor.

This is it.

The last prank we pull at Hogwarts.

Fred handed George the swamp gently.

"Go run it to the main corridor. Meet you out there in a few minutes."

George accepted the box excitedly and practically skipped out the door.

The door shut behind him heavily.

I was really sad.

This was the goodbye, I could sense it.

The last time Fred had said goodbye, I had only been semi conscious in the middle of the night. It made it easy.

I didn't really know what to say when I was awake.

"Skiving Snackboxes. Portable Swamps. Fireworks....I think we're leaving behind a pretty nice legacy." Fred grinned, sitting down beside me.

"Yep. Making people sick, making messes, and making noises..." he muttered, putting his arm around my waist, "I'm glad you love me, because noone else will."

I grinned, nudging him a little with my shoulder.

He stood, and faced me, putting his arms on either side of my shoulders.

I reached out and touched his face.

It was weird and invasive, but I just liked feeling close.

He liked it, too, because he put his hand over mine, to keep it there.

"I feel like I've had to say goodbye to you a lot this year." I muttered sadly.

Fred grinned widely and laced his fingers through mine.

"But every time I leave, I get to come back, and I love coming back to you. It's the best part."

He leaned closer and put his forehead against mine.

Up this close, all I could see was his wide grin and a few freckles.

We both paused for a moment.

I think we were both expecting him to say something.

I wasn't quite sure what.

I don't think he was either.

Something funny, something sweet..Whatever it was seemed to escape him for the moment.

A few more seconds passed and he gave up, his grin stretching even wider (if that was even possible) before tilting my chin upwards and kissing me mischievously.

I always felt his smile when he kissed me.

I think thats why I liked them so much.

He pulled away and ran his arms down my sleeves, squeezing my hands once he got to them.

"I really like your socks." he mentioned, not even looking at my socks. "I've been meaning to tell you that. You've always got really nice socks."

I giggled.

THAT was Fred trying to be romantic.

But he could always make me laugh.

"Lets go before George sets it off without us." I said, hopping down from the sink and pulling on his fingers like a child.

And off we went, to go pull our last- and by far the greatest- prank in Hogwarts history.

-----------------


	8. Thursday is Inventory Day

I stood outside of Filch's office.

I could feel my heart beating quick and fast under my skin, and my palms were wet with adrenaline.

"Come ON..." I whispered to myself.

I never wear a watch, but I was certain it must've been quarter after five.

Just like we planned.

"Damn you, Peeves."

I began to bounce a little on the balls of my feet, whipping my head around nervously to make sure I wasn't being watched.

Jill had been so kind as to keep guard on the south east stairwell, but that was only one prefect out of 8, not to mention possible passing faculty or Inquisitorial Squad members.

Finally, I got what I was waiting for.

Somewhere on the floor above me, a deafening crash resounded, along with a shrieking laugh.

I smirked.

Peeves came through for me yet again.

In seconds, Filch had stormed out of his office, hell bent on finally catching the poltergeist in the act of mayhem.

"I'll bloody well get you this time....you trouble causing....rabble rousing....hrmmflrggrjs...." he mumbled incoherently, as always.

As soon as the dirty old squib had bounded up to the first landing, I darted into his office.

I bent my knees, looking in every direction for my victim.

"Mrs. Norris....Pretty kitty!" I cooed, squeaking my lips together.

I clucked my tongue a few times, slowly making my way around the desk.

She had to be here somewhere, the little demon...

"Mrs. Norris! I just want to pet y-AHHH!" I hollered as suddenly 2 sets of needly claws dug their way into my shin.

I bent down swifty and grabbed the cat victoriously.

"There you are, ugly." I snickered, before bolting out of the office.

As soon as I got to the 4th floor, I was giggling so violently I almost dropped the cat.

Fred and George would have loved this.

My smile dropped as I thought of their stupid speckled mugs flying away into the horizon, like some crazy outlaws from an old movie.

In my arms, the cat yowled and spat.

With a clank and some more hissing, I managed to dump the animal into a suit of armor.

I slammed the lid shut, satisfied.

I was not usually this rotten, particularly to kitties, however these were desperate times, and if you weren't with us, then you were against us.

We were out to prove something, the student body.

Just because she had gotten rid of Dumbledore, and gotten rid of the twins, did not mean the trouble would cease.

In fact, I almost believe it was worse.

Peeves suddenly bobbed above my head, cackling evilly.

"Filch's gonna flip. Kitty's only friend he's got!" the little poltergeist sang, positively thrilled to be in his element.

With another wild bob, he kicked the armor and wailed into it, allowing the echo to ring out and causing the cat to nearly have a conniption.

I giggled at the ruckus.

"Thanks Peeves. You're not too bad."

He gave a short salute before blowing a loud raspberry and ricocheting off down the halls.

I followed after, wanting to put as much distance between myself and the crime scene as possible.

Last week, Peeves and I had pulled every tap and clogged every toilet on the 4th floor.

I grinned in spite of myself, and winked at a group of first years who had heard the commotion.

They smiled back and continued past the armour, ignoring the yowls from within.

See, the Ministry thought that with Dumbledore gone, the trouble would stop.

But we were out to prove them wrong.

Dead wrong.

---------------------------------------

I am a social person.

I love to talk to people. I love interaction. I love attention.

Heck, I need it.

I was really bummed when I discovered that Jill was spending the afternoon with Malfoy.

After all, with the twins gone she was pretty much my only friend.

Anyways, it was a low blow.

But nothing could compare to the complete abandonment I felt at this moment, outside of Snape's office.

I cleared my throat loudly, and knocked on the door for the 3rd time.

No answer.

Still.

I put my ear to the door carefully.

No noise.

Honestly, this was ridiculous. I had just seen Snape earlier that afternoon.

I pounded on the door again.

"Oi! Snapeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyy!" I hollered.

My voice simply echoed off of the cold grey walls.

I huffed.

I didn't know whether to be miffed or concerned. Snape never leaves his dungeons till 8, on the dot.

Especially on Thursdays. Thursday was inventory day. All of the ingredients get refilled on Thursday. He gets to go into the crawl space to refill them!

Snape adores the crawl space!

Hell, I even love the crawl space! Vials upon vials of oddments that would make any self respecting potion maker salivate with anticipation.

I loved Thursday.

Snape loved Thursday.

WE loved Thursday.

I folded my arms over my chest, moodily.

It looks as though it was going to be another night alone in the common room, skulking about with the cat.

I slowly began brooding my way out of the dungeons.

Lonely.

Abandoned.

Discarded.

Like a holey sock.

Or a wad of bubblegum that lost it's flavour.

Miserable.

All alone in the castle, with only the world's ugliest cat to keep me---

"PROFESSOR!" I squealed, seeing Snape round the corner, looking just as annoyed as ever.

I was so thrilled to see him I very nearly gave him a hug.

However, that I knew from experience that that was not a good idea, so I merely clamped my hand over my heaving bosom and sighed with relief.

"Shall we go on a merry Thursday adventure in the crawl space? The classroom is running low on beetle wings. Thats top shelf, ya know! We get to use the step ladder and everything!!!" I trilled.

The teacher did not respond, but merely pushed past me, his black robes flaring out behind him like a storm cloud.

It was then I noticed that Snape was not alone.

My eyes fell heavily on the bespectacled student morosely following my hero into his office.

"Not tonight, Poe." Snape said icily over his shoulder, closing the door behind him and the student with a slam that echoed down the corridor.

I stood there for a moment, aghast.

I was in shock.

The click of the lock snapped me back into the horrifying reality.

I was just rejected by Snape.

And what's worse: I was rejected so Snape could have a meeting with Harry Potter.

Unicorn turds.


	9. Springtime in Letters

Dear Sally,

Running the shop is the best idea we ever had. We spent the last 3 days playing with all these fun gadgets that I've never even heard of. Have YOU ever heard of a TinkleGoogobulator? We are not even really sure what it does, but it makes a lot of noises and looks quite lethal when you wield it and chuckle. There's also this Instant Darkness Powder (imported from Peru- Swanky, eh?) which is sure to be a best seller. In sadder news, we had to nix the Dysentery Delights from the Skiving Snackboxes since they turned out to be just as gross and assy going in as coming out.

Love,

Fred.

Dear Sally,

I told you it was a bad idea to send that letter to Snape that said you liked him so much you were going to crack his ribcage open, climb in, and wear him around like a jacket. He's probably come to his senses and distanced himself from your brainsick wiles. He may also be fed up with you sending him detailed accounts of your summer holiday, and quoting him word for word. Don't worry, he'll probably start talking to you again eventually. I've noticed you're kind of hard to live without. Like a liver or something.

Love,

Fred.

Dear Sally,

You should see these things we are selling. Pygmy Puffs. They look just like the Tribbles from Star Trek, only they come in colors that are much more appealing to your whimsical gender. Like pink and purple and crap like that. Also, today George tripped up the stairs, breaking something in a box marked 'fragile' and stubbing 4 of his toes. It made me miss you a lot, since I know how you are always finding creative ways to stub your toes.

Love,

Fred.

P.S. George says hello.


	10. Stake Out Fail

A/N: sorry again for the delay. I was totally in Harry Potter mood until the Star Trek movie excitement/ enjoyment set in. Anyways, I had to deal with my Spock obsession for a few days, but I'm over it. prepare for some serious Snape action.

---------------------------------------

This whole Snape-being-too-busy-for-Sarah- thing got very old very fast.

It seemed as if every time I saw him, Snape was busy skulking about in that secretive way that I usually found so profound and freakily attractive, but NOT when I wasn't in on the secret.

I had begun to talk to my cat as if it were Snape himself.

"Snapey Wapey!" I would coo, petting his greasy ears.

But there would be no annoyed eye roll or snotty reply.

He would just rub his face on my face and purr in that gloppy, oily sounding way.

Sodding cat.

"What did it do that for?" I demanded, rubbing the cat snot off my face.

Jill's voice sounded, muffled from the huge book she was hidden behind:

"Cat's do that."

I pushed Sev onto the floor.

"I don't like it."

Jill put the book down and stared me dead in the eye.

"Listen, at least Snape is in the same school. If I were you, I'd ask him spot on. Can't you hide out in his office or something? That always did the trick in catching Dumbledore..." Jill looked down at her watch, gloomily. The hand had never stopped spinning since Dumbledore had left, but she still wore it. Just in case.

I smiled a bit, and picked up Severus, who had just laid there after I dumped him on the floor.

"Bloody brilliant." I grinned at her, stroking the cat like I was Dr. Evil or something, "As always."

I was tempted to throw in a 'Mwahahaha" but I refrained.

Jill rolled her eyes and went back to her book.

Looks like it's time for a stake out.

-------------------------------------------

I knocked.

My heart froze.

Logic dictated that Snape would not be here, since he hadn't the last 500 times that I WANTED him to be.

However, now that I had a devious plan and all, you could never be too sure.

I was greeted with nothing but silence.

I knocked again, but didn't hesitate to open the door.

Ya know, Jillishly.

The office was empty.

Obviously.

Half of me was still annoyed, but the bigger half of me was relieved and I proceeded to take a seat in his desk.

My heart fluttered as I sat down.

Just sitting in a seat shared by Severus Snape makes one feel all giddy and intelligent.

Ok.

I was there.

Now what?

Waiting?

Bugger....

...

I looked down at the top drawer.

It was so tantalizing, all closed and secretive and whatnot.

I knew I shouldn't open it.

That would be a breach of privacy.

And Severus Snape _adores_ his privacy.

I ran my finger over the drawer pull.

It was cold, and practically had "open me! OPEN ME!" written all over it.

"What the hell." I muttered under my breath. (famous last words for me, 98% of the time.)

I pulled open the drawer with a flourish.

Nothing flew out at me, and I was a bit miffed.

Then again, Snape wasn't really one for theatrics.

I peered into the drawer.

...nothing.

Not a beetle wing. Not a speck of dust. Not even a dead housefly.

I rolled my eyes.

Typical.

Suddenly, the door flew open with a bang.

Snape came whirling in, his normally pallid face was positively livid.

"It was as accident, professor!" yowled the voice of Harry Potter, who had ALMOST dared to cross the threshold of the office, but stopped with one toe over the line.

Snape whirled around, totally oblivious to me sitting in his desk chair, and gripped the edge of the door in his hand. His knuckles were white with tension.

"Your lessons are OVER. GET OUT OF MY OFFICE." He bellowed, slamming the door in Potter's bespectacled mug.

The slam of the door rang out like a gunshot, and I just sort of sat there for a few seconds. Not breathing, mouth agape, still perched awkwardly over the open and empty drawer.

I didn't move.

They can't see you if you don't move.

I mean hey- it worked for that dinosaur in Jurassic Park, right?

Sadly, Snape was too smart for that rubbish, and he turned and looked straight at me.

I shut my mouth and slid his drawer closed very slowly.

He looked me up and down, made an ugly twitch with his upper lip, and fled.

Thats right, fled.

He just whipped right around and exited.

I was flabbergasted.

"OI! Come back here!" I hollered as the door slammed shut behind the fluttering black robes.

I stood up and ran to the door, opening it hastily.

"Wait! Come back!" I shouted at his slowly disappearing shadow, "If you leave me here, I'll do something bad!" I threatened.

He continued, without even pausing.

"I'll blow things up!! I'll break things!"

Still, no reply.

"I'll ingest something horrid! Just you wait!"

He turned the corner at the end of the corridor, his robes flicking out of sight.

"I'LL GLUE SOMETHING TOGETHER!"

But he was gone.

I growled and kicked the doorframe in anger, sufficiently stubbing my toe.

Merlin's beard.


	11. Checking Out

_Occlumency. _

I flipped the parchment over, hoping for some sort of an explanation.

It was blank, so I turned it over and reread the word a few more times.

I had found the parchment sitting on my trunk when I had awoken this morning.

It was from Snape.

Not that I can identify his handwriting or anything, I just sort of knew he would explain things to me eventually. Even in this weird, cryptic sort of way.

Whatever.

He was talking to me again, that was a plus.

I simply wouldn't have been able to enjoy my summer knowing that our friendship wasn't intact.

It must've been the chocolates that I conveniently left in the empty top drawer.

Chocolate always cracks him like an egg.

I smirked to myself and pocketed the parchment.

I'd have all summer to look it up.

I sat on my trunk, sullenly.

I always hated leaving Hogwarts for the summer holiday.

I mean, I always loved the holidays once I was out doing things and wreaking havoc, but not being in the castle always made me sort of sad.

It was such a pretty place......

The door burst open, and Jill came in, hands on hips, and sleeves rolled up. (the one and only defacement of her uniform that would ever be tolerated).

"Got everything?"

I stood and grabbed the handle on my trunk.

"Yeah."

"What about the cat?"

I made a gross face and groaned.

"Oh, that old thing. Of course."

Jill rolled her eyes and picked up the ratty looking feline, who protested at being torn away from his nap on my bed.

Jill hushed it and turned back to me.

"Toothbrush?"

"Got it."

"Wand?"

"Yup."

"Clean out your cauldron?"

"Umm..."

Jill shook her head in distaste, and then continued.

"Are all explosives put away in a safe and appropriate manner?"

I nodded.

"Did you check for last minute mail?"

I groaned.

"I know I don't have any. Can we go now? You are reminding me of my mum."

Jill just smirked.


	12. Like Hell

Dear Sarah,

I thought I'd give this letter writing thing a go. Mum showed up in the shop today, ya know, to roll her eyes at our inventions and explain the demise of Umbridge in exquisite detail. Crazy old bat had it coming all year, I say. Kudos on flooding the bathrooms by the way, we didn't expect you to cover the entire floor. The shop is more successful than I ever imagined, and I expect we'll get even more in the summer. You definitely had a stroke of genius with those Headless Hats. Perfect for bad hair days. ...So I guess this letter is pretty much stupid. I just sort of missed you like hell. We're waiting for you at the shop. Better hurry up.

-George

p.s. I hope you get this before you leave for holiday.


	13. Author's Note

hello all :D

The first 2 chapters of the next installment in the Sarah Poe Chronicles are UP!

Get excited! Read! Review!

Tootles!


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